


History Repeats Itself

by dulcetair



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Fluff, Laurent sees the wonderful life and family he's built for himself and hates it, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Canon, well eventual fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8694667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dulcetair/pseuds/dulcetair
Summary: Post Kings Rising Laurent loses his memory of the last three years... Catching up on what he's missed is somewhat jarring.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first Captive Prince fic! I hope I've done the characters justice, this series is so so special to me. 
> 
> Anyway this idea came from me wanting to explore "book 1 Laurent seeing end of book 3 Laurent's choices and new life" and this was the only way I could think to do it without time travel lol. Enjoy!
> 
> *Disclaimer I have no idea how memory loss works everything is for plot convenience.

Laurent woke more slowly than usual. His head hurt and it took quite a bit of effort to send signals out to his limbs to move. The sun was shining through a window next to his bed, the light making him wince. When his vision adjusted he saw a man with his back turned, floppy hat slightly askew.

"Paschal." 

Paschal turned quickly, a relieved look settling on his face. "You've been out for some time Your Highness. A day and a half, almost long enough for me to be truly concerned."

Laurent sat up, and darkness almost immediately blotted out his vision. 

"Careful, don't sit up too quickly. Here drink this water. Slowly, slower than that, alright. Now, do you remember what happened?"

Laurent blinked slowly. He tried to think of what happened the day before, or even the day before that. It was like grasping at air, trying to grab it your hands but coming back empty. It was, for Laurent, who's mind was usually his greatest ally, endlessly frustrating. "No, you'll have to fill me in."

"A day and a half ago, you were riding, a young stallion, not your usual. One moment you were riding and the next you were thrown off. You slammed your head on some rocks it looked like. Luckily you were close enough to the palace that guards witnessed the whole thing and brought you back." 

Falling off of his horse, how embarrassing. Once his head stopped throbbing he'd have to have someone walk him through exactly how he allowed himself to get thrown from a horse. Gossip was probably already spreading though out the court actually, as anything resembling a flaw or weakness of his did. Paschel wouldn't have said anything but the guard most certainly did. Damage control was going to be annoying.

He sighed. "Is my uncle at court today or do I have some time before that pleasant conversation?"

Silence, for too long. Laurent looked up. Paschel had frozen where he was writing something down. He looked at Laurent carefully, as if not sure what to make of what he found there. "No," he said slowly, as if he was testing the water.

Laurents attention caught. "Then at Chastillion?"

"Your Highness," Paschel said carefully. "Your uncle has been dead for years."

Laurent schooled his face into one of no emotion. "I see." There was another silence after that, as Laurents mind raced to tens of hundreds of possible explinations. The thought of his uncle no longer being a part of the world was almost inconceivable. He had seemed such a staple of reality to Laurent, for better or worse. But there was a bigger issue at hand.

Laurent said, "How many?"

"A bit over three, now. You seemed to have hit your head harder than I thought."

Three years. Laurents head spun until he forcefully reined it in. Then he was what? 23? 24? He clearly remembered having his 20th birthday at the very least. Did this mean he was king? He looked up to ask Paschal, but was stopped by the look on his face. It was not the face of a man ready to answer simple questions. Laurent was being looked at as a man looks at a wild animal when considering how to deal with it, something who's moves and reactions were unpredictable.

"Wait- just wait here," said Paschal while moving quickly towards the door, seeming to have made a decision. "Drink some water and don't leave that bed. I'll answer any questions you have but you're bound to demand a second opinion, so I'm getting one before we begin." Laurent could hear Paschal's muffled voice on the other side of the doors, talking to the guards. "Do not let him out no matter what, I don't care what he tells you, he's my patient and I don't want him to leave this room. And don't let the other one in either, thats a disaster waiting to happen. What? I don't care what he orders you to do, what use are you if you can't secure a room for a measly half hour?"

Laurent felt the stirrings of what could become panic shoot throughout his body. He forced himself to breathe. He obviously wasn't in any immediate danger, Paschal would be back soon to explain everything, and given enough rest his memory was likely to return. Probably. Laurent sighed and brought his hand to his neck, a stress habit. Thats when he saw it. 

A large, heavy golden bracelet affixed to his left wrist. But it wasn't a bracelet, it was a cuff.

Everything in Laurent froze. The shock caused the black spots to return to his vision as he suddenly stumbled out of bed. Without waiting to recover he brought himself to the window beside his bed. As his vision cleared he saw a view both beautiful and horrifying. His window had a clear view of the ocean, white buildings dotting the path leading to it. The cool sea breeze flowed through the window. Though having never been there, it was clear where Laurent was. Akielos, most likely Ios. Home of the Akielon royal family. Of Damianos the Prince Killer.

Laurent leaned against the wall and tried to think of a reason he would be in an Akielon palace wearing a slave cuff that wasn't the obvious, but he couldn't. He couldn't think at all. Suddenly, he had to get out. 

Laurent dug through the closets in the room until he found clothes that looked like they belonged to him. There were some jackets and boots he recognized, but a disturbing amount of chitons and chiton like clothes. Some with color and sleeves, an unholy combination of Veretion and Akileon styles. Disregarding them he put on one of his familiar dark blue jackets, trousers, and black boots. 

As Laurent laced up his jacket, he noticed something odd with the sleeves. The left was a bit shorter than the right, precisely so, as if it was tailored to a purpose. A sinking feeling in his stomach, Laurent checked the other jackets in the closet: each had the left sleeve slightly shorter than the right. With a shock Laurent realized it was to better show the golden cuff. He felt sick. 

Steadying himself with a breath, Laurent turned his full attention to getting out of the room. He opened the heavy wooden doors and walked like he had every idea of where he was going. The guards stopped him, somewhat awkwardly. 

"Please wait for the physician to return, Your Highness, it shouldn't be long." The guards were Akielon, and hearing them call him by a title was somewhat surprising. Possible realities ran through his head. Of living as political prisoner, being held hostage in a facade of retained power, Vere ruled by a puppet government. Golden cuff affixed and visible to never let him forget the truth. 

"I haven't bathed in days." Laurent said with a cool stare and an Akielon fluency that startled him. "I'm going to the baths, if you feel the need to escort me, go ahead," and set out in a random direction without waiting to see if he met with approval. Luckily he seemed to have chosen the right direction, because one of the guards belatedly broke from the other and jogged to catch up.

Corridors passed in a blur, servants passed, but Laurent made no eye contact. He went lower to the ground level of the palace, knowing the baths would most likely be on there, not that he ever intended on arriving. But Laurent was running out of time to loose the guard. The corridors of the palace were wide and open, raised slightly above a garden. The walls arched and open to the outdoors, bringing a cooling breeze to the walkway.

Laurent thought sometimes tact wasn't possible. Watching out of the corner of his eye, he waited until the guard's gaze shifted to the left for just a moment. Then, with quick unflinching confidence, Laurent stepped on to the ledge and out the window.

There was barely a sound as he fell straight into the bushes lining the garden. Laurent fought a bout of dizziness as he landed, remembering suddenly he hadn't eaten in days, and had taken apparently quite a hit to the head as well. He heard the guard stop, and then frantic footsteps, shouted questions to surrounding servants. It wouldn't be long until the garden was searched. Laurent waited a few moments, then crawled though the bushes as he made for the edge of the garden, and jumped up onto another walkway.

He walked with purpose, all emotion shuttered, even as darkness edged on the sides of his vision. Laurent put all his energy, his focus, into walking straight forward. Towards the edge of the palace, the entrance. He could see it marked by grand statues and arches. He was almost there, just a little further…

Laurent heard his name, a man he'd never seen before looking at him in concern, but that wasn't what caused him to stop. Laurent's gaze lowered to an Akielon child running toward him, bright eyes. "Papa!"

Laurent briefly lost focus of his goal, and that was enough for his vision to spot again. His head spun and the world along with it until everything went black.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be three to four chapters it looks like! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and hmu @thathinatatho on twitter and silveryair on tumblr!


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